Truth
by MadHatter524
Summary: Neville Longbottom never wanted to be a leader, but now, in his seventh year of Hogwarts, he's one of the leaders of Dumbledore's Army. What does a good leader do, then? Second place in alohamora080's True Colors Competition. One-shot.


**A/N: Written for alohamora080's True Colors Competition. Character: Neville Longbottom. Color: blue, symbolizing youth, spirituality, truth, and/or peace. I chose truth.**

Neville Longbottom had never been much of a leader. He'd always been perfectly happy to step back from the spotlight and let others take the credit. But now, with Voldemort and his Death Eaters having taken over Hogwarts, there weren't very many choices left.

One choice, of course, was to join the Death Eaters and escape all punishment. They didn't have any problems with purebloods such as him. Neville, however, would rather die than join the people who had tortured his parents to insanity.

Death, of course, was another option. Death was always an option, though never a very optimal one. But death would be another form of surrender, and Neville had sacrificed too much to just give up like that. No, he would rather keep fighting than die.

And that was the third option – keep fighting, in the face of all challenges, all setbacks. This was the path that Neville had taken, and it had, unfortunately for him, led him to being one of the new leaders of Dumbledore's Army. He knew that he didn't have what it took to become a leader. He wasn't brave, like Ginny, he wasn't helpful and patient, like Luna. He didn't even _want_ to be a leader, but this was one thing that didn't have his choice involved.

Sometimes, Neville thought that nobody in Dumbledore's Army knew how powerful Voldemort was truly becoming. Yes, Hogwarts had been taken over by Death Eaters and there were no more Muggle-born students because of the Muggle-Born Registration Commision, but Hogwarts was a bit of a selcluded place, away from most of the action of the Second Wizarding War. Every day, the list of deaths was becoming longer, but none of them were actually inside Hogwarts. Hogwarts was, in a way, a sanctuary.

It was November. The first DA meeting of the month had ended, and most everyone had already left. Neville stayed, though, not wanting to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room where everything the students did was being reported back to Snape. If Hogwarts was a sanctuary, then the Room of Requirement was the bulletproof broom cabinet.

"Neville?" a soft voice said from behind him. Neville didn't recognize the voice, and turned around slowly, hesitantly. It was Tiffany Newman, a first year Ravenclaw whose parents had mysteriously vanished the month previously.

"What's really going on outside Hogwarts?" she asked. It was the longest sentence that Neville had ever heard her say.

He opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. What was really going on outside Hogwarts? What was the truth, really? You couldn't trust the Daily Prophet anymore. It published enough deaths to remain believable, but there had to be much more that remained covered up and clouded. Nothing in the Ministry was as it seemed, with Death Eaters all over the place trying to disguise the hell that the Ministry had become for everyone except the members of the most distinguished pureblood families.

So who could you trust?

Nobody. Nobody would tell the truth anymore.

"I…I don't know," Neville admitted.

Tiffany bit her lip. "Is Voldemort going to come here?"

"I don't know. No one knows where he is," Neville said. What a leader he was. He couldn't answer any of the questions that people asked him.

There was a pause before Tiffany asked another question. "Are…are my parents dead?"

Neville knew the answer to this one. Tiffany's father was a Muggle, and her mother was Muggle-born. She was technicaly a half-blood, so she was safe. Her parents, however, were far from safe. He didn't want to answer it. He didn't want to crush her hope, but he couldn't lie to Tiffany. She was a Ravenclaw, she knew when people were lying. The truth would come out soon enough anyway.

"Probably," he whispered.

He could see Tiffany's eyes filling up with tears. She had still had hope, even though she probably knew that it was far-fetched.

"Are your parents dead, too?" Tiffany asked.

Neville stiffened. He always had this reaction when people asked about his parents. He never talked about them if he could help it. It was sometimes better just to push them out of his mind and only let them enter his dreams. But he felt that he owed Tiffany an answer.

"No," he said, "worse than dead."

Tiffany didn't ask anything else about his parents, and Neville was glad. He didn't think that he could answer any more questions.

"Thanks," Tiffany said, "for being the leader. We really need one." And with that, she left.

Neville stayed in the Room of Requirement for a long time that day, thinking about the questions that Tiffany had asked. A girl so small shouldn't be asking such big questions; it wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

_What's really going on outside Hogwarts?_

Nobody really knew that except for the people outside Hogwarts, and most of the ones who would give an unbiased truth were dead or sworn to secrecy. The students within Hogwarts could only hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

_Is Voldemort going to come here?_

Nobody knew where Voldemort was going to go until he was there. Hogwarts, however, was a likely candidate for a Voldemort visit.

_Are my parents dead?_

Yes, they were probably dead. Nobody could know for sure. But a Muggle and a Muggle-born didn't stand much chance against a world of Death Eaters and purebloods. Maybe they had changed their identities and moved to Australia, not telling anybody so that nobody could follow them. But yes, they were probably dead.

_Are your parents dead, too?_

No, his parents were not dead. His parents were locked in the long-term wart of St. Mungo's, condemned to wait there for eternity, not remembering anything, not being able to think of everything. That was worse, than dead, wasn't it? Which was worse, not being able to see your parents at all, or seeing them and having them not recognize you?

None of these questions could have an absolute answer. None of them could be answered with absolute truth. There was always somebody who could argue with whatever answer you gave.

But Neville now knew that he could be a leader. He could tell the truth, even when it hurt. And that's what a good leader does. A good leader doesn't lead people into a happy illusion. He leads them into the cold, hard reality until they realize that it's what they really, truly, need.


End file.
